


Tales of the Reckless

by vesuviannights



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Female Reader, Multi, Oral, Polyamory, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 09:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesuviannights/pseuds/vesuviannights
Summary: After making a rather bold bet with your two disaster boys that you could keep quiet no matter how much they pleased you, Asra and Julian choose a very public place to make you prove yourself. Julian eats you out while Asra murmurs in your ear, all while you have to try and keep quiet so you aren't discovered.





	Tales of the Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Tumblr (@vesuviannights) for headcanons or to submit a request!

The sun is at its peak, glaring down upon your sweat-dampened skin as you walk hand in hand with Julian through the markets. People are bustling around you, jostling you as you walk, everyone a little irritated by the heat of the day and trying to get things done a little faster so they can retire to the shade of their homes before they collapse from it.

Asra is here somewhere, but you lost him a few minutes ago when he became distracted by a stall in the far corner of the square, and that was how you had ended up with Julian’s hand tight in yours—it had been in Asra’s, but because Julian was needy today and just wanted the love, he had brushed against you and whined until you had taken it with a roll of your eyes and a smile.

“Oh, my love—” You turn your attention toward Julian as he speaks, and see him pointing to a stall a few feet down the path, where a man in a bright tunic is waving him over with a familiar smile. “Would you mind if I—?”

“Mmhmm, sure,” you murmur.

You have already had your attention stolen by a stall of your own, attended to by one of your favourite purveyors of trinkets and silks. You wave Julian off and begin through the crowd, barely hearing the indignant noise he makes (that you would leave him so easily is a scandal), and head toward the shadowed stall.

There, you brush your fingers over the wears both new and familiar, contemplating the weight of your coin purse as you discuss the origins of each item with the shopkeeper. You choose a few to set aside for purchase, and begin to ask about the shopkeeper’s plans to move the stall to the south end of the square, when you feel something brush over the back of your neck.

You pause in your words, your eyes slowly flickering up to the occupants of the square at large. It was not something physical that had brushed you, but a gaze, and as you sweep the stalls in the line about across the square, your eyes catch on the culprit. Or, _culprits_.

Julian and Asra are lingering by the corner of a spice stall. They’re close to one another. A little _too_ close for your liking. Whispering, murmuring, with matching wicked grins on their lips.

And their eyes are set on you.

You slowly lower the charm you are holding back into the basket you took it from, then hand over two coins for the ones you are buying before slipping them into your pocket. Your gaze hasn’t moved from Asra and Julian, and they in turn haven’t moved from where they are watching you.

They have stopped talking, though, their expressions visibly shifting even from so far away. Asra’s gaze is always a little mischievous, and it takes someone who has known him long and well enough to see when it truly changes into the dangerous kind. You tilt your head to see if you can spy the glint that lingers in his eyes when it does, and shift on your feet when you indeed catch it.

Julian, thankfully, is an absolute open book and much easier to read than his white-haired counterpart in your polyamorous adventures, and his devilish smirk is perhaps the biggest give away that you should start walking slowly backwards and disappear into the crowds—which is exactly what you do.

You slink around the back of the stall and into the thicker crowd in the main aisle of the market. You glance over your shoulder, eyebrow raised, until you are able to duck between two more stalls and into the next aisle. 

One of the many benefits of dating Julian is that his head always stands out in a crowd, a flaming red beacon that is almost alight on sun-filled days such as this. You’re confident he’s not following you, though you can’t say the same for A—

“AHH—!”

You shriek, the sound cut off by a hand around your mouth as you are dragged behind a stall and into an alcove, just inside the alley behind it. Your heart is racing, and you can feel the magic quickly building in your fingertips to defend yourself, until your eyes catch on the familiar, waving locks of Asra’s white hair. 

Asra’s eyes twinkle as he presses you into the wall, his hips pushing into yours as he uses his free hand to brush your hair off your face. You scowl, a growling huff erupting from your chest. 

“Always trying to scare me off with that look,” he grins. He leans in and nuzzles your neck, placing a soft kiss there. 

You roll your head back with a quiet noise of agreement, letting him butter you up with soft little kisses, letting him distract you while Julian is surely looping around from whatever route he took to help Asra shepherd you into this exact location.

And indeed, the doctor appears a few moments later, his grin quickly changing to a pout.

“Starting without me?” He asks Asra.

“Only because my _other_ love would have escaped if I hadn’t,” Asra answers. “But of course I wouldn’t have started the main event without you.”

As his words finally click, you roll your eyes and push him back, and he lets you.

“_Here?_” You ask, almost exasperated. “Here, of all places, is where you want me to follow through on the dare?”

“I’m sorry, was there a subclause in our agreement that excluded public places?” Julian asks, tilting his head as though to hear you better. 

You grumble an unintelligible answer. Asra places a hand on the wall behind your head, leaning forward to murmur against your lips. 

“What was that, my love?” He asks. You shake your head. “And here I thought you were always bragging about being so recklessly in love with us.”

This, somehow, is the one thing to spur you on. You tilt your chin up. 

“I’m reckless, not a dumbass.” 

The corners of Asra’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, then murmurs to you, “Indeed, that role is already occupied by Ilya.” 

He kisses the tip of your nose, then turns completely toward you to place his free hand on your hip. You exhale, slowly, and keep eye contact with him as he fiddles with your clothes, eyebrow arched, as though waiting for you to concede.

You just raise your eyebrow right back.

From there, he slips the hand downward until it is between your legs, his fingertip tracing you, making you shiver. But you don’t give.

In any other situation, in any other place, you would already be moaning softly, biting your lip, trying to move your hips into his touch a little more. But not here. Not with your pride on the line, and the twinkle in his eye, and the surge of adrenaline currently working its way through every muscle and nerve in your body, making you every bit the recklessly-in-love magician you claimed to be.

Asra watches you, head tilted just a little, for any sign of a reaction as he repeats his movement with two fingers, pausing to circle them over your clit through the fabric of your undergarments.

You are still, breathing only a little uneven. Bottom lip trembling only slightly. Eyes locked with his.

He takes your hand and steps you away from the wall. As he speaks, he doesn’t look away from you, either. “Ilya?”

“Oh _ho_,” Julian answers, his voice a low purr in his chest. “I’m already on it, my love.”

And your first loss of the morning is that you do look away, then, to watch as Julian steps back into your field of vision and drops to his knees beside you. 

He looks up at you, hair pushed back off his face, before pressing a kiss to your hip, then another a little further in, and another—a little further in. 

You look back up at Asra, your accusatory gaze burning as you realise what Julian intends to do. Asra chuckles softly, shifting his stance so that Julian can get better access to you.

Asra slips behind you, between you and the wall, circling his arms around your waist. He leans into your ear, bits the lobe; you can feel the curve of his lips, hear the adrenaline-fuelled grin in his voice.

“Are you still so recklessly in love with us?” He asks. 

Julian’s fingertips have hooked into your undergarments, and he is looking up at you with a wicked grin, and you have to close your eyes and turn your head away from the sight to stop yourself from moaning—because once that first sound escapes, you will have lost all control, and then it will only be a matter of moments and Julian’s deft fingers and Asra’s soft lips before you lose the dare, too. 

“Go on, Ilya,” Asra murmurs. “Make our reckless love watch as you feast on her pussy, as you make her sigh out and cry out while she rides your face.” 

You open your eyes—you can’t stop yourself, you know it will only make your body heat—to watch Julian peel down your undergarments, exposing you to his waiting tongue and parted lips. 

You lick your own lips, eyes darting to the alley entrance; no one has walked past, the one stall that could see you hasn’t turned your way. Perhaps you aren’t so in danger of being caught. Perhaps you can risk just a few noises.

When Julian’s tongue presses into the heat of your pussy, licking one long, slow line up the length of you, your entire body jerks, and you barely remember to slam your hand over your mouth before a cry erupts from it. He laughs into you as he repeats the action, this time parting your folds with his fingers so he can begin to coax your clit out of its hood with tiny little kitten licks from the tip of his tongue.

“No hands,” Asra tells you. “Those were the rules.”

One of his own clasps around your wrist and draws it away from your mouth, leaving you to swallow your next moan as Julian’s lips close around your clit and begin suckling. The motion has your knees weakening, bolts of white-hot pleasure straight to your core. He inhales deeply against you, giving a high-pitched moan at the scent of your arousal.

You long to reach down and grasp his hair, guide him with the harsh pulls he so loves so that you can grind a little harder against him, but such an action would surely have you screaming out for the entire square to hear—thus, losing you your bet, and many weeks of getting your way in the bed the three of you share.

“Don’t you want to take Ilya’s hair, my love?” Asra asks you, as though reading your every thought. “It’s rude of you to take and take your pleasure from him but to give him nothing in return when he’s being such a good boy.”

He leans closer to find your neck, suckling gently on your pulse point, and you—the desperate, quickly losing thing that you are—tilt your head to beg him for more. He makes a noise of approval, scraping his teeth against that very same spot, and you keen in delight at the feel of it.

Julian is only spurred on by your noise and Asra’s words, taking a knee and placing it over his shoulder for better access. Here, he can take hold of your ass and pin you to his mouth, unable to escape as his tongue sweeps up your slit and takes every drop of you he can before beginning to tease your hole with its tip.

He moans into you, murmuring nonsense, encouraging you with his sounds, the vibrations rocking through you and causing you to shake.

You don’t know how you’re doing it, how you are not already a loud pleading begging fucking mess, _you don’t fucking know_. You are already so delirious with arousal and a twinge of fear, your eyes darting to your surroundings, waiting for someone to see, waiting for someone to hear. 

You choke on your own breath as one of Julian’s fingers slips into you and crooks into your g-spot, and as though they had practised this dance many times over, Asra’s hands slip under your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing and rolling your taut nipples in his palms.

“Time’s running out, Jules,” Asra says. “She needs to come. She’s so close, can you feel it?”

Julian makes a noise of agreement as he adds a second finger. Your jaw drops open and you gasp, catching the sound in your throat and grappling with Julian’s hair. He whines as you pull it, and the sound sends a white-hot rush of arousal through you.

Asra grins into your neck.

“Come on, my love. Don’t you want to make all those pretty little noises for us? Don’t you want to turn absolutely feral and scream, just like you do when you ride Julian’s face at home? Or when you watch me swallow his cock while you’re touching yourself?”

You shake your head, clench your jaw, because even in your frighteningly heady arousal you refuse to back down, refuse to lose the battle.

But then…but then Julian pulls away from you to look up at you, and you make the mistake of glancing down to see his hooded eyes, his slack jaw, the way he’s palming himself through his pants while his face is smeared with your arousal. 

And you lose. 

You cry out, your pussy squeezing and milking his fingers as you come around them. They both seem to immediately jump into action, twin grins on their features as Julian returns his mouth to your pussy, lapping and sucking and fucking you with his fingers to draw more noises out of you while Asra grinds his hard cock into your ass and palms your breasts, whispering filthy little daydreams in your ear. 

When you just barely start to come down, your jaw tightens again, furious with yourself for making noise but relieved that it didn’t draw anyone in like they had told you it w—

“HEY! YOU THREE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

All three of you turn, eyes wide, jaws comically dropped open.

Asra’s hands are still up your shirt. 

Julian is still on his knees with his face inches from your pussy, both still glistening with your arousal.

The three of you watch the guard approaches from the far end of the alley, brandishing his fist and calling for more guards. The world is frozen, and you are rooted to the spot as more people—not guards, just curious onlookers—begin to gather and stick their heads in after the guards to see what all the fuss is about. 

Then, and only then, do you snap into action. Asra steals his hands back from under your shirt. You adjust your clothes while unhooking your knee from Julian’s shoulder. Julian scrambles to his feet, eyes wide and face flushed. 

All three of you are laughing as you try to escape before the guards get close enough to recognise you for who you are. 

Asra grabs your wrist and begins pulling you out of the alley. You reach for Julian but he is too busy trying to stuff himself back into his pants and tripping over his too-long limbs. 

And you’re still laughing, tears in all your eyes as he eventually fixes himself and comes running after you and Asra, the three of you disappearing into the crowd in a matter of moments thanks to Asra’s magic, only given away by the sounds of your tear-filled laughter and gasps as you race each other back to the shop.


End file.
